


Hubristic

by chemicalcandy



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Sex, Asshole Frank Iero, Asshole Gerard Way, Crushes, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Hate to Love, High Level of Sarcasm and Bad Puns, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rich Frank Iero, Sexual Tension, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-11-18 00:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11280357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalcandy/pseuds/chemicalcandy
Summary: Life is easy.Well, Frank's life is, anyway. As the mayor's son, all doors are open to him. Literally. He's rich, he's handsome, he's young - Everyone respects him. Except for one guy.Which is why Frank hates Gerard from the very beginning, with all his heart. No matter how ridiculously cute his voice sounds, or how pretty his eyes are. He doesn't even care that Gerard looks like he can give killer blowjobs with those plump lips.No. Frank totally hates that pretentious asshole.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the amazing [sockpuppeteer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sockpuppeteer/pseuds/sockpuppeteer) :)

The music was so loud, Frank could feel it buzzing through his bones, shaking his entire body rhythmically, the bass almost harsh enough to make his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t even fathom how fucking loud it had to be _inside_ – the hot bodies stuffed together, sticky and sweaty. Sure, the club music wasn’t what Frank usually listened to, but for tonight, it would do. It would be a whole new experience for him, completely fresh sensations and impressions that would bring him one big step closer to being an adult.  
  
He couldn’t wait to get inside – but he had to. He had to because that fucking annoying and, well, pretty muscular prick wouldn’t let him in. And for that, that guy had to be dumb. So fucking dumb. Frank had already explained it to him, twice, for the record, but the asshole in front of him still hadn’t come to his senses. Not understanding the situation once would’ve been excusable. They still could’ve blamed the loud background noise, after all. But Frank wasn’t used to having to repeat himself, let alone having to try to convince people to do something for him. This, having to deal with retarded twats, was way below his usual standards. He wasn’t used to people not complying with his wishes and demands in an instant.

“Okay, so I will say this one more time,” Frank articulated with an impatient huff, speaking loudly and clearly so the dumbass was able to follow his words. “I wanna get inside. Now. And if you don’t fucking move out of my fucking way, I will get you into some serious trouble.”  
  
The man just shook his bald head and looked at Frank with an irritated expression. “God, I don’t even know why I put up with you. But just to give you one last chance to go away before I lose my shit, I will tell you again. You are _not_ twenty-one. Therefore, I am not allowed to let you in. Kid, go play with bricks or something, I don’t give a fuck. Or study. You’d probably benefit from learning some manners and respect towards your elders.”

Frank stomped his foot and glared at the guy. “I'm seventeen years old! What kind of retard do you take me for, you imbecile?”

“Whoa, boy, calm down there. I’m only doing my job, and you should find your place, too. If you come back in four years, I’ll be happy to let you inside. But not now, you’re not even _eighteen_!”  
  
“You won’t be working here in four years if you keep treating me like this,” Frank told him arrogantly. “I could make sure you’re unemployed within the next twenty-four hours.”

Frank loved watching the man’s expression change. He always got the same reaction, yet it never became boring. The man didn’t look angry anymore, but rather confused and sort of concerned, although he was trying to hide it beneath a self-confident grin that showed his ugly, stained teeth. “Oh?” he asked with a raised brow. “And how would you do that, kid?”

“I didn’t want to have to do it this way, but you seem to leave me no choice.” Frank sighed and suppressed a grin. Of course he'd wanted to ‘do it this way’, it was just fun to trick other people into thinking he was a decent human being, at least to that extent. “My dad is the mayor of this city. And I’m his only son, a son he really loves and would do anything for because he feels like he neglected me as a child. So if you wanna keep your job, or any of the things you value, you will step aside and let me into this fucking club right now.”

The man frowned and shook his head, yet Frank could see he had won. He looked surprised and impressed, so the only thing he needed now was a little bit more of Frank’s persuasiveness. “Just because you’re the mayor’s son doesn’t mean you own this city, boy,” he reasoned after a few seconds of thinking. “I’m sure your dad wouldn’t appreciate his underage son partying in one of the most expensive clubs in the area. Just go home.”  
  
“Oh, is this about money? Because if so, we don’t have a problem at all.” Frank grinned cockily and got his wallet out of his pocket, drawing two fifty dollar bills out of it and swaying them playfully in front of the bouncer’s face. “You interested now?”  
  
The man’s eyes widened in shock and he hurried to push Frank’s arms down so the people queuing behind him wouldn’t see what was going on. Frank knew they were growing impatient. He just didn’t particularly care.

“Jesus, kid! Bribing is illegal, you know that?”  
  
“Yeah, I do. And I’ll tell you this, I’ll add another fifty bucks if the next time I wanna come here, you don’t act up like this. I don’t have time for arguing with peasants like you. Do we have a deal?”  
  
“I should get you arrested,” the man murmured as he snatched the money from Frank’s hand and stuffed the bills quickly into his back pocket.

“First of all, you should get out of my way,” Frank clarified helpfully. “And then you should think about investing that money into implanting a monkey’s brain into your head, so you’ll have one to start with. Alternatively, you could pay someone to sew your lips together. Although I bet lots of people would do that for free, you seem to be pretty bothersome.”  
  
He could hear the man gasp and mutter something under his breath, but Frank just grinned and walked – fucking finally – through the door. The music became louder with every step, the volume seemed to be coursing through his veins and fueling him to keep going and, like, live his life or something. This night would be something special. Not that his other nights were boring, Frank never let himself get bored. His life was too precious for that, and he knew that and was smart enough to put effort into entertaining himself. But he had, in fact, never been to a club before.

After paying a lousy entrance fee of thirty-five dollars on top of the hundred and fifty he'd already handed over, he entered the actual club space, and this was where it got really intense. Suddenly masses of people surrounded him, smelling of sweat and alcohol and swinging their bodies obscenely to a remix of some song in the current charts. Next to Frank, three obviouslydrunk girls were bouncing up and down and singing – or more like, _shouting_ – the lyrics loudly, hugging each other, giggling and laughing. Hyperventilating? Maybe. Eventually. Before Frank could really start to enjoy watching their boobs jiggle and shake, some asshole came out of nowhere and almost knocked him on his ass. He was taller than Frank by a good five inches, so for a few seconds, all Frank could see of him was the broad chest right in front of him. The dude smelled starkly of cigarettes and sweat, which made Frank gag a little, but mainly just crave a smoke.

“Sorry, man, didn’t see you there,” the man slurred and walked off in the opposite direction. Frank wanted him to stay for a few seconds longer to spit the retort he had already formed in his head into his ugly face, but he figured the idiot was way too drunk to appreciate it, anyway. So Frank just huffed and elbowed his way through the pulsating crowd, not really knowing where to go because, although he'd never admit it, he had no idea what people did in a club.

When he reached the opposite wall and the crowd began to thin, Frank leaned against the solid partition and got his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He didn’t know whether smoking was allowed in here, but he didn’t bother asking someone – The club was full enough for employees to be far too busy to bother stopping an underage boy from filling his lungs with poison. He didn’t give a shit whether it was allowed or not, and was almost looking forward to having an argument about it.

Watching people dance and sweat soon bored him, so Frank tossed the butt of his cigarette onto the floor carelessly and waltzed towards the bar. The mixologist didn’t even ask for his ID, assuming he was at least twenty-one since he had gotten into the club, and handed him a G&T.

After he'd finished that one, then two more and dancing a little, Frank was bored again. Man, was he doing something wrong? He had expected partying to be fun, but so far he had experienced little to no positive feelings from this whatsoever. Even if spending almost two hundred dollars wasn’t that much, Frank still didn’t want to go home bored out of his mind. There had to be more to do here than dancing, drinking, smoking and sweating, right? Because if not, Frank sure as fuck was never doing this again. He started to feel like it was nothing but a waste of his time.

He had to go to the bathroom after his third G&T. His expensive clothes were sticking to his body and he felt dirty and messy. Fucking disgusting. If anyone saw him like this now, they would surely expect him to be nothing but a simple middle-class teen. Fuck, maybe even working class. Although he doubted poor people could afford partying like this – it was relatively expensive, after all.

Luckily the bathroom wasn’t as gross as Frank had expected.The tiles on the walls may have been white once upon a time, Frank supposed, but now they were rather gray with a couple of dubious stainshere and there. Although there were no flooded floors or wet toilet paper, the moment he entered, Frank still set a goal to leave as soon as possible. There weren’t that many people in here, but Frank was pretty sure there were at least two human beings fucking in the cubicle at the end. He could hear moaning and something heavy banging against the door repeatedly. _Gross_.

There were a couple of urinals along the wall, but two of them were already occupied, and Frank was not pissing next to some other, possibly perverted or nasty dude, thank you very much. So he chose to do his business in one of the cubicles, praying he wouldn’t find a guy masturbating – or worse – in there.

He decided to go home afterward. This so wasn’t worth his time. The place was smelly and loud, nothing but a bunch of morons getting drunk and moving their bodies to music that wasn’t even decent. If the bouncer on the door had told him how shitty it was in here instead of trying to make him see that he couldn’t get inside because he was too young, maybe Frank wouldn’t have had to threaten him with being fired. He doubted he would have listened to him, but still.

Just when Frank had pulled his pants up and grabbed the handle to get the fuck out, he heard a voice. Which wasn’t weird, of course, he was in a rather busy club after all, but the voice was really close to him. Like, above him. Literally right over his head.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” the voice said. Frank frowned and looked up to see a black haired dude leaning over the partition and grinning down at him, waving stupidly. “Hey!”

“What the fuck? I’m pissing here, would you give me a bit of privacy, you freak? Holy shit!”

The man just grinned and shrugged as best as he could considering he was not in a very stable position right now. “Actually, you’re not. Looks like you’re about to leave.”

“Damn right I’m about to leave,” Frank looked away from the annoying – but admittedly pretty handsome – man and flipped the lock to let himself out. He went to wash his hands, hoping this dirty hell hole wouldn’t give him any diseases. Looking in the mirror he could see his own face, barely- the lighting was shit compared to what he was used to at home – but he could see _something_. He looked flushed and exhausted. His hair clung to his damp forehead a little, and his eyes seemed a tad unfocused, which the G &Ts were probably to blame for. But before he could concentrate on that any longer, he saw the door to the cubicle next to his swing open, and the freak inside hurrying towards him.

“Fuck,” the man cursed as he reached Frank, his face somewhat pained. “I sort of hit my head when I jumped down from the toilet lid. That thing is slippery as fuck, dude, I think my shoes are wet now.”  
  
“Gross,” Frank said as he turned away to dry his hands.

“Hey, so, what’s your name? I know this is a weird place to get to know somebody, people usually flirt with you at the bar, I suppose? But still. I saw you and you looked kinda familiar, so I followed you, and-”

Frank raised a hand to shut him up, which he did. “You followed me to the bathroom,” Frank stated. It wasn’t a question, but the other man nodded and smiled apologetically.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t find you again. This place is crowded.”  
  
“You followed me to the bathroom and thought it would be a good idea to climb on the toilet to what, watch me piss? What the fuck?”

The man’s eyes went wide before he shook his head quickly. “Oh, no, no, no, that’s not what happened. I heard you flush so I knew you were done, I’m not a creep, man-”

“You kind of are.”  
  
“Sorry. Anyway, my name is Gerard. Would you tell me yours?”  
  
“You know, I _could_ tell you,” Frank started, fully turning around to look at the strange man. “But I won’t. Because you’re weird, I don’t wanna talk to you. Go bother someone else. There are probably, like, spiders in here, pretty sure they don’t mind listening to your bullshit, so…”  
  
“But I wanna talk to _you_!” the man with the unusual name Frank had already forgotten insisted. He came a little closer, _too_ close, and Frank took a step back. “I think it’d be fair if you told me your name. I’ve told you mine.”  
  
“I didn’t wanna know it though. So technically, it would be _fair_ to act like this awkward, unnecessary encounter never took place. That’s what I want, at least. And the way I see it, what I want counts. So would you remove yourself, or do you want me to call my bodyguard to assist you?”  
  
“You _are_ Iero’s son, then?” the man asked, ignoring Frank’s request. “I knew it! Frank, right? I saw a photo of you the other day, I can’t believe I met you here!”  
  
Frank rolled his eyes. His dad was in the newspaper all the time, and there also was some stuff about Frank every now and then, so this really wasn’t anything special. “I don’t remember asking you to tell me any of that, Jared.”  
  
“Gerard.”  
  
“See? Don’t give a shit. So get out of my way.” Frank huffed in annoyance and tried to leave, but Gerard’s arm blocked him. He looked at him questioningly, his eyes then moving to Gerard’s arm that was almost in his face. Frank tried to silently tell him to take it the fuck away by offering his best death glare, but Gerard didn’t even flinch.  
  
“Who are you here with?”  
  
“No one,” Frank answered. Because it was the truth, but mainly because he didn’t want to keep talking to Gerard. He didn’t like this – the guy seemed to know who he was, yet he was disrespectful enough to keep him here against his will. He wasn’t touching him or anything, but his posture still was somewhat irritating to Frank. The way his arm was way too close, his body practically hovering over Frank’s small frame. Frank did like his personal space, and having it intruded on by this stranger caused a weird feeling in his stomach he wasn’t familiar or particularly comfortable with.

“Not even that bodyguard you mentioned?” Gerard probed.  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Aw, don’t have any friends who wanna party with you?”  
  
Frank raised a brow, pretending to be bored, and looked Gerard directly in the eye. “I do, but unfortunately you’re not one of them, so excuse me...”  
  
“Say please?” Gerard demanded sweetly, moving yet a little closer.  
  
“Whoa, dude, better take a big step back here, or you’ll regret it.”  
  
Gerard shrugged and looked at Frank innocently. “Why, for asking a bit of politeness from you? Say it and I'll leave.”  
  
That was enough. Frank _never_ said please. He didn’t ask people to do anything, he commanded it and they obeyed if they knew what was good for them. So Frank just kicked Gerard’s shin, ducked under his arm and hurried out of the bathroom. He wasn’t going to let a person like that intimidate him. Not that Gerard was particularly scary, he was just... weird. And different. Somebody Frank definitely wasn’t going to waste his time with.

Against his expectations, Frank didn’t see the guy again. Not during the twenty minutes he spent dancing in the middle of the crowd to hide from Gerard’s eyes, not when he dared to order himself another G&T and then gulped it down hurriedly, preparing himself to leave this place. He kept looking for Gerard the whole time, and he cursed himself for still thinking about him. Who was he for letting a creep like that get to him so much? Gerard was just a strange little fucker, stalking people and urging them into conversation, acting like they could be friends. And what was the thing about people flirting with Frank? That dude was just fucked up. Maybe he was on drugs or something. Yeah, that must be it. Some people did weird things after taking drugs, especially the cheaper ones. You could at least do it right and buy the high-quality weed Frank sometimes got his hands on.

Telling himself Gerard was just a druggie who genuinely needed help – but obviously that wasn’t _Frank’s_ problem – Frank left the club about an hour later. The clean air was more than welcome, considering all the disgusting air he’d been inhaling for the past few hours. His clothes and hair, probably his entire body, had that same smell too, and he couldn’t wait to get home and take a long shower. He got his phone out of his pocket, only now noticing the way the letters seemed to be smaller and so much blurrier than usual. The alcohol had definitelyhad its effect on Frank. He smiled at the familiar sensation and walked until the music from the club wasn’t that loud any more and he could make a call without having to shout into his phone. Soon he found a small, dim alley that would do.

When he’d informed his driver of his location and was just about to pocket his phone again, somebody placed a hand on his shoulder, making him spin. He dropped his phone and heard it crash to the floor, the screen probably shattering. _Amazing._

And of course, he was facing the guy from the bathroom. His pulse began to race when he looked into his glistening eyes, their position much more intimate than earlier because Gerard was actually touching him now and they were all alone in an alleyway. The poor lighting made Gerard’s face appear sharper and somehow prettier, and Frank had the odd desire to touch it? Don’t judge, he’d had plenty of alcohol.

“What?” Frank simply barked out, trying to shake Gerard’s hand off his shoulder but not really caring when he didn’t succeed.  
  
“I saw you were leaving already. Didn’t enjoy yourself?” Gerard asked.  
  
“Fuck you, man. I just got my phone three weeks ago.” Frank shrugged Gerard’s heavy hand off eventually and bent down to pick his cellphone up, turning it over to assess the damage. There was a long crack splitting the screen, making Frank curse again. Well, whatever. His dad would get him a new one, a better one. “Why do you even give a fuck? I didn't enjoy myself then, and I'm certainly not enjoying myself now."  
  
“Aw, what a shame. We could change that, you know.” Gerard pointedly ignored Frank’s anger and moved his hand to Frank’s hip. Frank’s eyes shot up and he looked at Gerard in confusion, not wanting to admit he was kind of curious as to what Gerard was implying. He still was angry at him for breaking his phone and generally being the biggest and rudest creep he’d ever met, but suddenly he didn’t really want to go home already.

“How?” he breathed out. And immediately hated himself for sounding like a Catholic schoolgirl on her first date.

“Oh, well, I can think of plenty possibilities,” Gerard answered slowly, licking his lips as his eyes roamed over Frank’s face. “Do you want to find out?”

Frank hesitated. Who did this guy think he was, anyway? First he’d watched him fucking _piss_ , then he’d practically forced himself onto Frank and ruined his entire night. He had broken his phone, his hand was gripping Frank’s hip tightly, way too tightly, and his face was so close that Frank could feel his breath. Why on earth would Frank even answer such a question? So not his standard.  
  
“Yeah,” Frank whispered, all breathy and low, making him bite his lip. What the fuck? This was not what he had intended to say. It actually was the complete opposite of the furious rants in his head.  
  
Gerard’s lips slowly curled into a smile. It became wider and wider, steadily baring his teeth that looked incredibly white in the dim light until he was grinning down at Frank. His other hand moved to touch Frank’s face, and for a moment he thought Gerard was going to stroke his cheek and lean in for a kiss. It sure looked like that.

Frank closed his eyes, lids carefully slipping shut, and he didn’t know why, but in that moment, he really wanted to feel Gerard’s lips against his own. He wondered how they would taste, whether he would be able to guess what Gerard had been drinking all night...

But then he felt a touch on his… nose. A poke, not even a gentle one, right on the tip of his nose.  
  
“Well, you have to learn that you can’t always get what you want. Wake up, Frank, the real world is waiting for you.”  
  
Frank’s eyes shot open in disbelief to find Gerard still grinning, a sudden smugness in his eyes, and he wasn’t as close anymore. “What-” Frank started, ready to insult Gerard, but his brain couldn’t really process what had just happened. Gerard had been about to kiss him. Right? And then… not?

Something snapped inside of him, like he was waking up from some weird ass trance. Heatedly he took a step back, getting rid of Gerard’s hands on his body in the process, just wanting to get away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me!” he shouted. He did his best to make Gerard fuck off but he just kept looking back at him, his arms now crossed in front of his chest and the stupid grin still on his face. “You… fuck you. You don’t know me, fuck you.”  
  
“See how you’re just looking for your own advantage? Two minutes ago, when I promised I could make you feel good, you were-”  
  
“Right. You know what I should have done two minutes ago instead? Called my fucking bodyguard to beat you up, you sick freak. Never touch me again, you hear me?” Frank spat as he slowly regained his confidence, feeling anger boil inside of him instead of that weird confusion-slash-desire, or whatever it was he’d been feeling. Now all he wanted was to see Gerard either on the floor begging for his forgiveness, or not see him at all. He actually preferred option two. Looking at Gerard now, he wasn’t all that attractive. He wasn’t attractive at all. Fuck, no. He was just an arrogant fuck who thought he could play some stupid game with Frank. Well, he could go play with someone else.

“Hey, I didn’t force you to do anything,” Gerard clarified, the smirk never leaving his face. “It actually looked like you were really into it.”  
  
“I’m really into never seeing you again, thanks.” Frank raised a brow and glared at the asshole in front of him. It was then that his phone buzzed, a message on the split screen informing him that his driver had arrived and was ready to get him home. Gerard was lucky he didn’t get to experience Frank’s entire repertoire of witty comebacks and devastating insults. Not that Frank cared enough about him to even let him get a taste of it.  
  
“I come here often, by the way,” Gerard said when Frank was about to storm off. Just the audacity of him saying that, of believing Frank would give a shit, made Frank spin around and look at the guy, irritated.  
  
“You’re just really fucking stupid, aren’t you?”

“Uh, no. I just know people like you. I know what’s going to happen,” he stated matter-of-factly.  
  
Frank grunted. “Right. Because there are so many people just like me, huh?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Keep believing that if it makes you happy,” Frank fumed with a shrug before spinning around. His feet were carrying him back to the main road aggressively and faster than he intended; he just wanted to get away, he wanted to get home, get a new phone and forget this ever happened. Forget about this Gerard guy who was really just a massive fuckhead Frank never wanted to see again. So _was_ never seeing again. Period.


	2. Chapter 2

If his face wasn’t so extraordinarily handsome, Frank would slap himself. Everything inside of him strode against it and he found himself shaking, physically shaking, to fight against his fucked up thoughts, but they wouldn’t go away – Gerard’s face was there, in his head, whether he was awake or asleep, all the time. It was so fucking annoying. There were his stupid, honey-colored eyes and that weird-ass pixie nose that Frank seemed to have perfectly memorized, for some reason, his tiny teeth and pretty hair. All of that was really getting on Frank’s nerves.   
  
It only made sense he was thinking about him, though. Frank kept telling himself how fucking weird the guy was. He had never met someone so audacious, arrogant and disrespectful in his life, and that meant something because Frank had one fucking awesome life, so he met new people almost every day. He made  _friends_  almost every day, because mostly these people knew how to treat Frank right. Gerard, not so much. He was just… unbelievable.   
  
But there was one thing Gerard had said that stood out of all the boldfaced statements and assumptions, and that Frank kept fucking hearing when he lay in his bed, like Gerard was there and constantly taunting him, and it was so damn maddening.   
  
_You have to learn that you can’t always get what you want. Wake up, Frank, the real world is waiting for you._  
  
So many things were wrong about that. First of all, Frank didn’t  _have_  to do anything. Frank chose what he did. There were no _has_   _to_ ’s in his life. Anyone who thought otherwise could go fuck themselves. Secondly, Frank couldn’t always get what he wanted? Well, excuse the fuck out of him, but that was actually  _exactly_  how things worked. And they had worked just fine for almost eighteen years, but judging by Gerard’s poor skills of perception, he probably couldn’t even count to eighteen, so Frank was almost gracious enough to forgive him for that. Almost.   
  
_Wake up, Frank, the real world is waiting for you._ Frank was very awake, Frank was living his life like a champion, a life very few lucky ones could enjoy. Gerard didn’t know anything, he evidently was just some peasant with little to no education, and it was a miracle to Frank that he’d even had enough money to pay the fucking entrance fee. Maybe he was a prostitute. Frank had considered that thoroughly by now, and had found that thesis very likely. The way Gerard had touched him, his face and body were attractive – damn Frank for thinking that when he’d sworn to never call that creature anything positive ever again – and Gerard had to get his money  _somewhere_. Frank felt even dirtier that he’d been so close to that filthy man, and had showered about three times every day ever since the unfortunate encounter.  
  
A big part of Frank just wanted to move on and ignore that lowly human beings like Gerard were even allowed to live in the same city as Frank and his family. Breathe the same air, Jesus Christ. Gerard wasn’t worth his time. He so wasn’t.   
  
But if Frank had one thing besides his obvious good looks, wisdom and money, it was pride. Pride that had been damaged, badly so, and he just couldn’t sit around and hope he could forget this all happened. Gerard had humiliated Frank by pretending to be about to kiss him – that was a whole different aspect Frank successfully blocked out most of the time, because fuck, it was embarrassing as shit. It made Frank squirm uncomfortably and his cheeks heat up just  _thinking_  about it. Gerard wasn’t somebody Frank wanted to kiss, Gerard wasn’t even someone Frank wanted to be close to. Basically, Frank didn’t even want to know Gerard existed. Yet there he had been, with his eyes fucking closed and his heart beating excitedly, ready to embrace the softness of the other man’s lips, looking like the idiot he knew he wasn’t.   
  
Nobody could  _ever_  know about that almost kiss.   
  
Frank wasn’t even interested in boys, and if he was, Gerard would be the very last he’d ever date. He’d rather get fucked in the ass by fucking Gollum, that’s how repelling Gerard was to Frank.   
  
So, basically, Frank hated Gerard. And logically, he should never have let himself in for that apparent kiss. But it had happened. Because Frank had been drunk. Obviously that was the only reason.  
  
Which meant everything he had to do to show Gerard how fucking mistaken he was, was to not get drunk today. Frank was well aware that was controversial and kind of a paradox – Gerard thought Frank wanted to be kissed by him when really Frank would rather jump off a fucking cliff, and by not kissing Frank, he wanted to prove to him that he couldn’t always have his way, which wasn’t true, obviously, and which Frank, on the contrary, wanted to demonstrate.   
  
It kind of made his head spin, but that was okay. Gerard wasn’t here yet, which was good, so Frank still had some time to get clear-headed. He was standing right by the entrance of the club, as far away from the speakers as he could because the music really wasn’t helping him concentrate one bit. A cigarette was dangling from his lips, vibrating a little with every time the bass made the floor tremble.   
  
Frank grew more and more impatient as he stood there, new phone securely in his back pocket, waiting for a guy he hated in a club he’d sworn to never set foot into ever again because last Saturday had sucked ass.   
  
He realized that Gerard had been right. That he’d expected Frank to come back for him, and encouraged him to do so by telling him he came here often.   
  
Fuckhead.   
  
Well, he clearly had not been expecting Frank to come here to prove him wrong. Gerard was ignorant enough to assume that, what – Frank would cave and remorsefully come crawling back to him, admitting he’d been living his life wrong? Yeah, that sure as fuck wasn’t going to happen. But Gerard might not be able to think that far. He might not be able to think at all.   
  
Frank had just dropped his smoke to the floor when he saw two men enter. A steady stream of people came in here, so it was kind of hard to keep track, but since Frank had been the very first to enter the club tonight, he was sure Gerard definitely had not stepped past this door today yet.   
  
One of the men entering  _could_  be Gerard, though. Frank had to step a little closer because of course he wasn’t looking in Frank’s direction, animatedly talking to the man he’d entered the club with, so all Frank could see was the back of a head, black hair blocking the view. But then he turned a little, laughing at something the other dude – and who the fuck was that, anyway? – had said.   
  
Frank’s heart jumped, with  _rage_ , as he recognized the man to actually be Gerard. Ignoring the way his fingers trembled, also totally with rage, by the way, he made his way towards him, careful to avoid looking at the person he had entered with. This was just about showing Gerard who was boss, he didn’t need to get to know yet another person below his usual standards.   
  
The moment Gerard spotted Frank approaching him, a laughter Frank couldn’t hear due to the music escaped his mouth. He came to a halt and looked at him with twinkling eyes.   
  
“Frank!” he shouted, shaking his head and opening his arms as if to hug Frank, an offer Frank definitely was not taking. “You came back. Wow. I fucking knew it!”  
  
The guy standing next to him said something in Gerard’s ear that Frank couldn’t catch, making Gerard grin as he responded. Frank stood in front of them, still furious but oddly excited to see Gerard. Maybe it was just the adrenaline, though, his body preparing to make Gerard feel sorry.  
  
When Gerard had stopped speaking, his companion winked – fucking winked – at Frank and made his way into the crowd of dancing people, leaving Gerard and Frank alone.   
  
“How about we take this somewhere we can hear each other without shouting?” Gerard suggested before Frank could open his mouth to yell at him. “I heard the bathroom is a nice place to get to know people.”  
  
Frank rolled his eyes at the way Gerard smirked saying that, but nodded. He would need it to be quieter so Gerard could understand his insults… Or that he could  _hear_  them, anyway. Frank wasn’t too sure if Gerard would be able to comprehend them.   
  
Gerard smiled, grabbed Frank’s wrist and pulled him towards the bathrooms gently. Frank’s first impulse was to shrug him off, but the club had gotten really crowded by then, and he didn’t want to risk getting run over by some drunk fucker again, so he let Gerard drag him across the room after struggling for a few seconds. Frank was pretty sure he saw the guy Gerard had come here with at one point, the desire to ask who the fuck he was boiling in his veins, but he didn’t want to come across like he cared about Gerard. Because he didn’t.  
  
Having entered said bathroom, Gerard hopped onto the counter the sinks were attached to, letting his legs dangle and gesturing for Frank to have a seat next to him. Yeah, that was not happening. Frank’s jeans had cost more than Gerard’s entire wardrobe, if he even owned one, so he was definitely not ruining it by sitting on…  _that_.  
  
“So, I did some research on you after we talked,” Gerard opened the conversation bluntly, making Frank raise a brow skeptically. “And… turns out you’re seventeen?”  
  
“Yeah.” Frank shrugged.  
  
Gerard looked at him questioningly, that fucking taunting expression still in his eyes. That totally didn’t look gorgeous, on a side note. “And I guess you’re not gonna tell me how you got in here, right?”  
  
“Well, I could,” Frank drawled. “But no, I won’t. Not your business.”  
  
“That’s what I thought and the reason I didn’t ask.” Gerard sighed, waiting before he continued to talk as someone had just finished his business and came over to wash his hands. Gerard offered him a brief smile that the guy confusedly returned before drying his hands off and leaving. Apparently Gerard smiled at strangers… Frank made a mental note that this was more evidence that Gerard definitely was a prostitute. He was nice to potential customers. Fact. “Anyway, the reason I’m bringing up your age is because, well… You wanted to kiss me, and I mean, you’re underage, so...”  
  
Frank felt his cheeks flush furiously at the mention of the almost kiss. He’d hoped Gerard just wouldn’t bring it up, that he could just fucking forget, but of course the fucker had to remind him of it. “I think you’re getting things a little mixed up,” Frank spat defiantly. “ _You_  wanted to kiss  _me_. You sick fuck.”  
  
“Oh, no. In case you didn’t get that, I-”  
  
“How old are  _you_ , anyway?” Frank quickly inquired, not wanting to enlarge upon the whole kissing thing.   
  
Gerard stopped talking, the previous smug expression appearing on his face. “I’m thirty-eight,” he said.  
  
“You-  _what_?” Frank gasped. Okay, he so had not expected that. Gerard looked like he was barely twenty-one, not in his fucking thirties, the end of his thirties even, what the fuck? Gerard, a middle-aged man who most likely was a filthy prostitute, had almost made out with him. Frank bit his lip and shuddered because…  _ew_.   
  
Gerard cackled up at that, fingers clutching to the edge of the counter for support. “You should’ve seen your face,” he panted, shaking his head and fucking howling as if someone just had told the funniest joke ever. “Jesus Christ, Frank.”  
  
“I’ll be outside,” Frank growled with a huff. He didn’t get what was so funny and had no interest in watching Gerard make fun of him, there were other things that were more deserving of his attention.  
  
“Okay, wait,” Gerard breathed out, slowly coming down. “I’ll explain. Don’t be a bitch.”  
  
“Oh,  _I’m_  not the bitch,” Frank retorted, referring to the  _Gerard is a prostitute_  theory in his head.   
  
Gerard looked at him rather confused for a second before he shrugged it off. “I just wanted to know what you look like when you’re not in control of your facial expression. Because usually, you look like an arrogant fuck no matter what’s happening. Seeing you that confused… so worth it. You actually have a nice face.”  
  
“You’d look nice with my foot in your face,” Frank snarled, ignoring the way his cheeks felt warm at Gerard’s compliment.   
  
“I doubt you could get your foot up here, midget.” Gerard stuck his tongue out as Frank flipped him off. “So you have to take me as I am.”  
  
“Just... fuck you.”  
  
“Coming back to topic… I’m twenty-three. Just in case you didn’t get that it was a joke.”  
  
“Good for you.”  _Of course_  Frank had gotten that.   
  
Gerard grinned his stupid fucking grin and jumped off the counter to stand in front of Frank. “So, what made you come back? Can’t have been the music, huh? Last weekend you sounded like you were pretty sure you’d never come here again. Could it be because of… me?”   
  
Frank furrowed his eyebrows and glared at him. “Yeah. Because someone needs to show you how fucking dumb you are.”  
  
“I’m actually not that stupid, Frankie,” Gerard declared. “Maybe you should graduate first before making bold assumptions about others?”  
  
“Maybe you should just fuck off,” Frank barked. He didn’t like where this conversation was going, because against his expectations, Gerard was clearly taking control of it, and taunting him with basically every single word leaving his mouth. That certainly was not what he had come here for.   
  
“If that’s what you want,” Gerard probed, taking a step back with his brows raised. Frank was about to protest he wasn’t done yet when Gerard closed the distance between them again, coming yet a little closer than before. “Or I could stay with you,” he suggested quietly, leaning in so his breath was right on Frank’s ear and his neck. Frank decided gasping and shivering at that was perfectly normal and justifiable. “And we could get to know each other better. I would suggest one of the cubicles, but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t enjoy fucking me in them half as much as, let’s say… at my place? How does that sound?”   
  
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Frank got excited because that definitely sounded like something a prostitute would say, but there was another part of his body that got excited over something completely different. Because… what?  _Fucking_  Gerard? When had their conversation turned into something like  _that_? Gerard’s voice was low and raucous, and fuck, Frank felt himself grow hard, and he didn’t even care this was Gerard getting him turned on, because oh lord, thosewere Gerard’s lips on his neck. Fuck. They were soft, just as soft as Frank had imagined, not that he’d been thinking about it, but maybe he secretly had. A high-pitched whine trembled from Frank’s lips as Gerard’s mouth ghosted over the side of his neck, lips only barely grazing his sensitive skin, and Frank wished he would just start kissing him properly already.   
  
“What do you say, Frankie?” Gerard whispered, the warm air hitting Frank’s neck and making him grip Gerard’s shoulder for support because he suddenly felt like he was going to black out. “Where do you want me?”  
  
“I...” Frank panted. Not here, certainly, this place was dirty. But did he trust Gerard enough to come back to his place? Gerard’s words sounded really damn promising… Frank had never done anything with another guy. This was new, this was thrilling. Jesus Christ. “S-Somewhere else?”  
  
He felt Gerard chuckle, his lips planting one brief kiss on the skin over his jugular vein. “But you  _do_  want me?”  
  
Frank inhaled sharply at that. What the fuck was even going on? “Fuck,  _no_ ,” he hissed determinedly, using both of his hands to push Gerard off. Gerard’s face was a little pink but he was still grinning, smug and self-confident. Frank had never felt this embarrassed. “What the fuck are you doing?”  
  
“Showing you that you’re just like any other teenager,” Gerard explained with a shrug. “You’re ordinary, Frank. You’re just too far up your own ass to see.”  
  
“Shut up, I was just playing along!” Frank protested. “I didn’t want to… to hurt you by rejecting you.”  
  
Gerard giggled. “You didn’t want to  _hurt_  me. Sure. Anyway, somebody’s waiting for me on the dance floor, so...”  
  
“Yeah, who is that, anyway?” Frank finally demanded, not caring what Gerard would think.  
  
“How did you put it earlier? Not your business,” Gerard offered with a sweet smile.   
  
Frank was fuming. “Didn’t care, anyway.”  
  
Gerard just nodded and kept smiling. “Good.” Then he stepped a little closer, his face suddenly growing serious. “Hey, so… I know you don’t see that now, but I just want the best for you. If you keep living your life like you do… you won’t get very far. One day, there won’t be a bodyguard to protect you. There won’t be a father or a mother taking care of you and making sure you’ll get whatever you want. It’ll be you. Just you. You need to be prepared for that, you know?”  
  
“You don’t know what I need, Jesus Christ,” Frank pushed him back a bit, not wanting to be so close to Gerard when all he did was mock and tease him.   
  
“I feel like somewhere under all those layers of coolness and ignorance and your dad’s money, you could be a decent person, Frank.” Gerard told him, making sure to maintain eye-contact. “So I’d like to… be your friend?”  
  
“What?”  _Friend_? Hadn’t Frank done everything to show Gerard he was not interested in fucking friendship? Insulted him, told him to fuck off more than once, even threatened to have someone beat him up. In his opinion, it was pretty fucking obvious that he did not want to be his  _friend_.   
  
“Yeah. Just…” Gerard grabbed a paper towel from the pile on the counter behind him, getting a pen out of his pocket and scribbling something down on it. “I’m giving you my number. So once you realize you’re not a fucking majesty and the world is not what you think it is, you can call me. Maybe you’ll need a real friend at some point in your life.”  
  
He handed Frank the inscribed paper towel, and Frank took it, too perplexed to do anything else. “Wait, so… will I not see you around anymore? Why would I have to call you?”   
  
Gerard shook his head. “I don’t think you’re ready to see me on a regular basis, Frank. You’re… a kid.”   
  
“Well, you’re a creep.” How dare he call him a kid? Frank turned eighteen in about three months, it wasn’t like he wasn’t ready to make decisions. What the fuck? “I don’t even want to call you. Fuck you.”  
  
Gerard sighed but nodded. “I thought so.”  
  
Frank crumbled the paper towel in his hand and aimed for the trash can next to him, missing it and watching the paper fall to the floor. “I actually came here to-” Frank then said, suddenly remembering what he’d wanted Gerard to know, why he’d looked for him initially.   
  
“Cut it, I have someone waiting for me. Later, Frank,” Gerard smirked at him one last time and waved before he turned around and left. Just like that.   
  
Frank stood there, too confused to do anything. Gerard was so… weird. It was like he couldn’t decide whether he liked Frank or not, alternating between taunting him and getting him worked up, and then he called him a child and… left? Frank had never met someone like him ever before. Perhaps it was a good thing Gerard had told him they shouldn’t stay in touch, although it irked Frank it hadn’t been  _him_  to say that, because if Frank had done it, he would have made Gerard see how fucking stupid it was to assume they could start hanging out on a regular basis in the first place. Frank didn’t even want that. Fuck no.   
  
Actually, this was great. He’d never wanted to see Gerard again, so all he had to do now was walk out of this bathroom, out of this club, and they would be over. He would forget about the awkwardness of the almost kiss and the almost fuck eventually, and if he ignored that both times had just occurred because Gerard wanted to tease him, apparently, he could keep living his life feeling attractive and wanted by both genders. That didn’t sound so bad. And didn’t mean he was gay, because he was not, obviously.  
  
So logically and against everything Frank had agreed upon in his head, he made his way towards the trash can and picked the paper towel up, smoothed it a little against the wall and smiled when he saw the numbers were still perfectly legible. 


	3. Chapter 3

Even if Frank chose to throw the scrap of paper away now, it wouldn’t make a difference. The numbers were etched into his memory securely, sometimes even popped up randomly just to mock Frank some more, and fuck, now his own fucking brain made fun of him.  
  
What had happened was just an array of weird circumstances, really. It all had started out so innocently, so _normal_ , and now there Frank was, sitting on his bed at fucking 1am when he really should be sleeping, but unable to because he was stuck trying to make sense out of his confused thoughts. All he’d been able to do the last two fucking _months_ was just that – though, usually, he would at least get to rest at night.  
  
Gerard was constantly on his mind. All the fucking time, whether Frank was awake or asleep, and it was seriously getting on his nerves. What the guy had done to him, he had no idea. Frank only knew that Gerard had utterly… amazed him, in a way. Sure, he was rude, and stupid, and way too fucking arrogant for Frank’s liking, but there just was _something_ about him that Frank wished he could have around himself more often. So, yeah, he missed Gerard. He missed his stupid nice hair, and his stupid nice face, and his stupid fucking voice with which he would always ramble on about what Frank could do better in his life. It was irritating, so fucking irritating, but after weeks and weeks of feeling just utterly infuriated and equally entranced by Gerard, Frank had come to accept something he would never have expected of himself. And that was… a crush. On another guy, on a guy that had treated him like nothing but shit. But, man, Gerard was just… Gerard. Frank had only met him twice, but by now he felt like every day passing without having talked to him was a waste of time.  
  
Frank had fought against it. He had asked himself about a million times what the fuck was wrong with him, what had happened, because Jesus. He was _Frank Iero_ – he didn’t lust after anybody, and certainly not men as weird as Gerard who watched other people pee, for fuck’s sake.  
  
But Frank wanted to call that weirdo. He wanted to call Gerard, meet up with him, talk to him. And, if he was completely honest, he also really wanted to do what Gerard had been hinting at the last time they had seen each other. Have sex with him. Fuck, how many times had Frank thought about that. Imagined it. Jerked off to it. It was really embarrassing.  
  
Calling Gerard would mean admitting he was interested, though. It would mean accepting Frank wasn’t nearly as perfect as he’d always thought he was – not that that had changed, he was just interested in Gerard, okay – and it would mean Gerard had been right. That Frank needed another person, that he was into him and that he would have fucked him into next week if that had been a real offer. Of course he would have, who wouldn’t.  
  
But even if Frank could ever overcome his massive ego blocking him from just picking up his damn phone, there still was something else keeping him from doing so. Something Gerard had said, and that sort of made Frank feel really fucking stupid for even bothering with his fucked up little crush. Because Gerard had said Frank could call him so they could be _friends_.  
  
There was this uneasy feeling in Frank’s stomach whenever he recalled that fucking word leaving Gerard’s mouth. Friends. Not what Frank wanted. But the more he thought about it, the clearer it got that being friends was about as close as they could get. It wasn’t like Frank could force Gerard to have a relationship with him, although a childish part of him kept trying to talk him into that _yes, he could –_ He was the mayor’s son, after all.  
  
It was frustrating. So damn frustrating. Frank had never experienced anything like this before, and he had to admit he was glad this was the first time. Maybe this was the stupid ‘real world’ Gerard had talked about, and if it was, Frank blamed him for even introducing him to it in the first place. And for being the reason Frank felt this shitty. Frank blamed Gerard for basically everything nowadays.  
  
The reason he couldn’t fucking sleep tonight was because he had seen Gerard earlier that day. He had just finished his guitar lesson and was about to get in the car his driver had parked right in front of the building when he saw him, and it had felt like Frank’s entire world had stopped for a moment. Gerard, the man he’d been thinking and fantasizing about for weeks and weeks, was right there, just coming out of the Starbuck’s across the street, happily talking to that same guy he had also been in the club with. He looked so _normal_. Like he hadn’t crushed Frank’s heart.  
  
Thinking about it, that guy was probably his boyfriend. Or a persistent customer; Frank still liked to cling to his prostitute theory. Frank hated to think there were people close to Gerard, close enough so that they could just grab a cup of coffee together, or have a fun night partying. He knew that he could also have that, or he had a chance to, at least – if he just called Gerard.  
  
Seeing him had awoken all of the weird, confusing feelings Frank had for him. It had destroyed the secure wall of ignorance he had started to build around himself again after Gerard had torn it down before, and now here Frank was, his bottom lip almost bleeding from having gnawed at it for hours on end, clasping his phone – the phone he’d also gotten just because of Gerard, goddammit.  
  
Deep down he knew he’d have to call him eventually. Even the smallest things reminded him of Gerard, even when it had been several months since he’d last seen him. Frank knew this was ridiculous, but Gerard just had done something to him. Something big.  
  
So why not call him today? Right now?  
  
His phone told him it was 1:21 in the morning. On a Tuesday. Which probably meant Gerard was asleep, just like Frank _should_ be. So actually, he had a pretty good excuse not to call him, but then, it also was a pretty good reason to just go ahead with it, because if Gerard didn’t answer his phone, Frank could at least tell himself that he’d tried, and move on with his life.  
  
And before he knew it, Frank had typed in the number and was calling Gerard. He looked down at his phone for a moment, reconsidering his life choices, shocked he had actually been brave – or stupid – enough to call Gerard. But then he saw that the call had started, Jesus fucking Christ, and Gerard’s voice was audible through the tiny speaker, quiet and distorted.  
  
“Hello?” he asked sheepishly, and it made Frank’s heart melt a little. Oh god, it was really him.  
  
Before Gerard could hang up, because then he would surely not pick up again if Frank had the courage to call a second time, Frank pressed his phone to his ear, taking a long breath and forcing the word out of his mouth. “H-Hi,” he said, biting down on his lip once more as the fingers of his unused hand dug into the sheets nervously.  
  
Silence. Frank held his breath waiting for Gerard to answer, praying he wouldn’t just hang up. Having heard his voice again, Frank felt like he just couldn’t stop talking to him now, despite not even having started properly.  
  
“Um, who’s there?” Gerard inquired eventually. Against what Frank had expected, he didn’t even sound sleepy or tired. Unlike Frank’s own voice, probably. He cringed thinking about how croaky and unattractively raucous he must be sounding.  
  
“It’s...” Frank started, hesitating to give his name away and therefore admitting defeat. “Frank,” he breathed eventually.  
  
“Frank!” Gerard sounded so cheerful Frank felt a smirk tug on his own lips, his body feeling oddly warm. “Hey! I really wasn’t expecting you to call...”  
  
“Why not?” Frank asked dumbfoundedly.  
  
Gerard giggled. “Uh, well. You threw my number away the minute I gave it to you?”  
  
“Oh.” Shit, he had done that, hadn’t he? Great, so now Gerard knew he had picked it up from the floor like a pathetic loser. “I r-remembered it,” he saved himself, mentally patting his shoulder for coming up with that excuse.  
  
“Hah, right,” Gerard snorted. “Anyway, I’m glad you called! Although you do know it’s like, well past midnight, don’t you?”  
  
“Yeah, I… I’m not tired,” Frank lied. Hell, was he tired, his never-ending thoughts just wouldn’t let him sleep. And now his heart jumping and the adrenaline speeding through his veins also made sleeping rather impossible. “Why are you up?”  
  
_Prostitute_ , Frank immediately thought. _Now he’s going to admit it._  
  
Gerard laughed at his question softly. “Oh, I love the night. Like, I don’t really see the point in going to bed and getting up early when I’d much rather stay up until dawn and wake up past noon. I like drawing late at night, it’s so… inspiring, you know? Everything’s so quiet. Nothing to disturb my thoughts.”  
  
“Right...” Drawing, okay then. Frank hadn’t seen Gerard as one to be creative, but then again, he knew remarkably little about the other man. Nothing, if he was honest. “So you got a job that allows you to sleep when most people work?”  
  
“Thank god, I do,” Gerard told him happily. “I create paintings and drawings for people on request, or sometimes I just make something and sell it, hoping someone will want it. It works over the internet, most of the time, so my sleeping schedule really doesn’t matter.”  
  
“That’s… cool.” Damn, that _was_ cool. So Gerard was, like, a professional artist. That was a job Frank would have laughed at a couple of months ago because surely, no one could fucking _draw_ for a living. You needed a real job. Gerard, though… Gerard could have whatever occupation he wanted and Frank would adore it. Secretly. “So you’re, well, good? At drawing?”  
  
“Yeah, I guess? I went to Art School,” Gerard informed him, sounding proud. Frank bit his lip remembering he had called Gerard stupid before; he certainly wasn’t. “And it’s enough to finance my bills and groceries, so yeah. I must be alright at it.”  
  
Frank hummed, feeling utterly relaxed talking to Gerard. This was not how he had expected their conversation to go, but fuck, he was happy they weren’t just drowning in each other’s silence. Frank realized conversations with Gerard never seemed to go to plan, and maybe he should just stop having any expectations towards them because Gerard would always take him somewhere completely different, anyway. Artist brain, or whatever. Frank would remember that for future talks… If there were any.  
  
“I made a painting your dad bought, by the way,” Gerard informed him then, making Frank inhale sharply.  
  
“Wait, really? Which one? When?”  
  
“Uh, yeah, I kid you not,” he giggled. “That’s how I knew you were Frank Iero, his son. I was at your house and he showed me the wall the painting was supposed to be on so I could like, choose the perfect color combinations or whatever. And there was a picture of you on the mantelpiece. Actually, there were pictures of you everywhere, no wonder you love yourself so much. So since I was bombarded with photos of you just a couple of weeks before we met, I recognized you, and that’s why I started talking to you.”  
  
Fuck. Gerard had been _here_? In this house? He’d walked the same halls, seen Frank’s living room and probably his shoes and jackets in the entrance hall. Holy shit. Frank kind of felt like a celebrity had entered his home without him knowing and inspected all his private stuff – sort of honored, but also incredibly uncomfortable. And then he thought about that painting in their dining room his dad had bought a couple of months ago. The painting Gerard had created, apparently. Frank had never really paid attention to it since he wasn’t exactly interested in art, but now he felt like it was the best thing in the entire house. He would definitely take a closer look tomorrow. And the day after. And probably every single day of his life.  
  
“Wow, that’s… not what I expected,” Frank admitted. “But it’s cool.”  
  
“Do you like it?” Gerard wanted to know. “The painting?”  
  
“Yeah, I do,” Frank answered without having to think about it. Although he’d never given a fuck about that piece of art, he had always thought it was a nice addition to the room. That and knowing it was Gerard’s work made him love it.  
  
“Cool. Maybe you want to see some more of my work?” Gerard asked. He sounded so casual, like he hadn’t just invited Frank to _come by his fucking house_.  
  
“Like… visit you?” Frank breathed, disbelieving.  
  
“Or we could meet up in a cafe or whatever,” Gerard affirmed. “I mean, you calling me means you do want to be friends, right? Don’t worry, I’ll save the bragging for later. We don’t have to do this at my place because the stuff I still own is mostly just sketches. I keep those in a folder I can easily transport.”  
  
“I… okay,” Frank agreed. He was way too overwhelmed to add anything else, let alone object to what Gerard was saying.  
  
“Cool. So, cafe, yeah? How about… tomorrow at 4? I should be awake by then,” he joked.  
  
“Tomorrow?” Frank’s heart did this weird little jump that made his body buzz. God, that was so soon. Fucking tomorrow. Or today, actually, since it was past midnight already. Frank grinned excitedly, biting down on his bottom lip to suppress a giggle he would have bitterly regretted letting Gerard hear.  
  
“If you want to,” Gerard said carefully. “I don’t mean to force you.”  
  
“Oh, you’re not forcing me. I was just… surprised. Yeah. But tomorrow sounds great. Where do you wanna meet?”


	4. Chapter 4

Frank had never been to this cafe before. It was located in a part of the city he usually avoided but still was not like, the fucking ghetto, so he guessed it was alright to be here. As long as nobody took a picture of him or something.  
  
Honestly, the cafe wasn’t that bad, though. Sure, there were people in here Frank usually wouldn’t want to be seen with. Some of them were even wearing sweatpants. _In public_. And there had been some crumbs of cake or whatever on the table he’d chosen to sit at, but after he had made the waitress aware of them and she’d removed them, Frank found himself quite enjoying the unfamiliar atmosphere. People were chatting around him, their voices creating a kind of buzzing background noise Frank surprisingly didn’t find annoying. He heard some women behind him talking about how one of them had gotten a dog from a shelter, and how cute and adorable he was, which was kind of interesting to listen to. Frank liked dogs.  
  
In fact he was so caught up in eavesdropping on the strangers’ conversation that he hadn’t even noticed it was already five minutes past four when Gerard entered. Frank only became aware of his presence when he took a seat right in front of him, the never-ending smile on his face.  
  
“Hey, Frank,” he said casually but with this certain warmth in his voice that made Frank’s heart jump to life.  
  
Gerard looked different. Kind of. His hair was a bit longer, and Frank felt like he was seeing his face for the very first time. Of course he had been imagining Gerard all the time, but there were certain details that had slipped his mind. The form of his thick, yet perfectly shaped brows. His incredibly long eyelashes, and fuck, his eyes in general. They looked so excited gazing back at Frank, his hazel pupils practically glowing with joy. This time, Frank didn’t even see any hints of mocking in them.  
  
“Hey,” he responded, trying to sound just as conversational when really he was fucking exploding on the inside. He had this certain… technique for talking to Gerard this time. He hoped he would be able to actually go through with it for once. So, although he was really damn happy to see him again after thinking about him for weeks and weeks, he was trying to play it off cool. Still, he wanted to be nice, somehow. He was trying to prove to Gerard he had become a better person, even if that meant admitting that he had been wrong before. Partially, anyway. There still was the desire inside of him to insult Gerard for driving him fucking crazy, but mostly he just needed to be near him. Which was weird, he’d never had this feeling before… but maybe it was just an _I have a crush on this guy_ thing. Wanting to be near someone. Yeah. But crushes didn’t last forever, and once Frank had managed to free himself of this irritating mindset, he could move on.  
  
“Have you already ordered something?” Gerard asked.  
  
“Oh, uh.” Frank had been weirdly lost in both Gerard’s beauty and his own twisted thoughts, and he’d sort of forgotten Gerard and him would be talking to each other. He shook his head quickly, trying to play it off. “Nah. Wanted to wait for you. You know, politeness and shit.”  
  
Gerard nodded with a chuckle. “I see you’ve made improvements.”  
  
“I’ve had plenty of time to think after you dumped me,” Frank retorted. He hadn’t meant to sound bitter, hell, he hadn’t even wanted to mention the past at _all_ – and now Gerard was looking at him in concern, a deep frown on his forehead. The statement made Frank look like a pissed off bitch and Gerard’s pretty smile was gone. Perfect.  
  
“I didn’t...” Gerard started, then shook his head and sighed. “I’m sorry. I must’ve… hurt you. In many ways. That’s why I’m super glad you decided to call me after all, it proves I might have been wrong about you.”  
  
Frank snorted. Right, Gerard must be so sorry for calling him a kid and telling him he was nothing but an arrogant shit basically whenever he’d opened his mouth. Not to mention he’d pretended to be into Frank just to embarrass him. Which, ironically, had awoken feelings inside of Frank that now made his life a misery. Thinking about it, Frank should probably hate Gerard. Which he sort of did. But also, Gerard looked a little too fucking good to declare him his nemesis.  
  
“Anyway,” he said, not wanting to talk about this kind of shit. “Uh, I… It’s cool you came, I guess.”  
  
“Thanks.” Gerard was visibly relieved Frank didn’t make a scene because of what he had done in the past. “It’s cool you’re interested in my art! I wasn’t expecting that.”  
  
“Me neither,” Frank answered truthfully. But after their call last night, Frank had spent his morning until he had to go to school and his afternoon after he had returned from school in their dining room just to be able to look at the painting. He hadn’t done so officially, though, pretending to be doing his homework, because shit, his parents would get kind of suspicious and concerned if their son suddenly spent hours on end just looking at a fucking painting. It really was beautiful though, much like its artist. In a different way. “But I… I think it’s time to try something new?”  
  
Gerard raised a brow. “You were totally just looking for an excuse to meet up with me and were glad I gave you the perfect opportunity,” he said in one long breath, making Frank bite his lip.  
  
And there he was doing it again, looking right through Frank as if he was made of glass or somebody had put a fucking sticky note to his forehead that said _I THINK GERARD WAY IS CUTE_. Both things Frank knew were not true though – he’d looked at himself in the mirror about five billion times today, which was even more than usual, so he was pretty sure he had no colorful sticky notes on his face or anything like that. So maybe Gerard wasn’t a prostitute, this whole artist thing had kind of ruined that well-elaborated theory anyway, but a mind-reader. There was pretty much no other explanation because Frank was sure he wasn’t _that_ fucking easy to read.  
  
“Hey, that’s okay!” Gerard laughed when he saw Frank’s embarrassment. Great, he hadn’t even tried to deny it. He was kind of turning into an idiot. “I mean, I was waiting for you to call, if I’m honest.”  
  
“But I threw the paper away,” Frank interrupted questioningly.  
  
Gerard nodded. “Yeah, and that kind of hurt. But well, a man can dream, can’t he?”  
  
“What can I get you, guys?”  
  
Frank looked up at the waitress he had talked to before. He was kind of startled because he hadn’t even seen her approach, fuck.  
  
“Oh, black coffee for me, please,” Gerard told her happily.  
  
“I… I’ll take a matcha.”  
  
“Sorry, I don’t think we have that...” the waitress responded. “Can I get you something else?”  
  
Frank sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Just coffee, then, thanks.”  
  
“No need to be rude,” Gerard said quietly once the waitress had nodded and left.  
  
“Hey, I’m trying to be nice to _you_ , that doesn’t mean I have to love the entire world all of a sudden,” Frank spat. Oh. Now he had sort of revealed part of his theory to Gerard.  
  
The other man smiled. “You’re trying to be nice to me, huh?”  
  
Frank huffed. “Obviously. I usually don’t go to shitty cafes with people I _despise_.”  
  
Gerard looked like he was about to argue about how this cafe was not shitty – Frank would have agreed because he sort of liked it, even though they didn’t have one of his favorite drinks – but then changed his mind. “So you don’t hate me?” he asked instead, sounding smug.  
  
“Good job remembering what I said three seconds ago,” Frank praised him sarcastically.  
  
“So you _like_ me?”  
  
“Not what I said,” Frank answered defiantly.  
  
“But what you thought.”  
  
“And you know that because you’re what, a mind-reader?” Just to make sure he wasn’t actually one because then Frank would have to change his technique once he was alone again. And then sort of… not think about it whenever Gerard was present.  
  
“Because you kinda called me in the middle of the night and now you’re getting coffee with me.”  
  
Fair points. “I just… wanted to see you again,” Frank admitted with a dismissive hand gesture.  
  
“Because you like me.”  
  
“If _you_ wouldn’t like _me_ dipping your head in the coffee I didn’t want as soon as it arrives, I would stop being a twat.”  
  
“Okay, first of all, that just proves you like me. Secondly, how dare you talk about coffee like that, and thirdly, you’re kind of a twat yourself,” Gerard announced, looking self-confident as he leaned back in his chair.  
  
“Did you come here just to mock me again?” Frank grunted. Gerard’s attitude was getting on his nerves, and the way his lips curled into an arrogant smirk totally didn’t make them look kissable as fuck. Ugh.  
  
Gerard shook his head. “Only if it’s necessary. I brought some sketches if you wanna see them, but actually, I’d just like to talk to you for now. How have you been, Frank? We haven’t seen each other in two months!”  
  
“Fine, I guess,” Frank shrugged. “Good. How about you?”  
  
“Yeah, me too. The last weeks have been great, I got lots of job offers even from new customers! I’ve made a lot of money, I mean, probably nothing in comparison to what you’re used to, but hopefully I’ll soon be able to get my own apartment,” he chuckled.  
  
Frank, for the first time in his life, didn’t feel proud when his family’s wealth was mentioned. Gerard made it sound like it wasn’t something he should be proud of, somehow. “So you… you still live with your parents or something?” he asked instead of dwelling on the subject.  
  
“Oh, no,” Gerard said quickly. “I used to live with them until I was twenty-one, though, not gonna lie. But when my brother turned eighteen, we decided to move in together.”  
  
Frank hummed. He hadn’t known Gerard had a brother, and part of him immediately wondered if he was as good-looking as Gerard. He had to be a couple of years younger than Gerard – maybe Frank could just date him instead and avoid all this?  
  
Oh god, _date_. He’d sort of tried to not think about that word for all those weeks, just because it sounded so incredibly unfitting and cheesy and wrong, but there it was in his head. For Gerard, the potential mind-reader, plainly to see.  
  
Frank didn’t necessarily want to _date_ Gerard. He was pretty sure what they were having right now wasn’t a date either – Gerard wanted to be friends, after all. Frank didn’t know what to do with this stupid ass crush. What do you usually do with people you have a crush on? Frank guessed you should try to talk to them. Check. And maybe try to spend time with them. Check. Find shared interests. Sort of check? With Frank liking Gerard’s painting and all. And then… what? Cuddle them? Kiss them? Try to sleep with them? Maybe Frank should find out whether Gerard liked him back first of all… which was not in his interest at all. Because that involved admitting to his feelings, didn’t it? Which involved admitting Gerard had been right. Which involved embarrassing himself. Which involved doing something Frank wasn’t familiar with and that didn’t sound fun at all.  
  
This was getting too complicated. Frank realized he should probably say something since Gerard had been the last to talk, but luckily the silence wasn’t too awkward because the waitress appeared with their beverages just then.  
  
“Your coffee,” she said joyfully, placing the steaming mugs on the table gracefully. “Hope you enjoy. Is there anything else I can do for you?”  
  
“Uh, no, thank you, Miss,” Frank answered, earning an appreciative nod combined with a chuckle from Gerard. _Politeness_.  
  
“Alright, if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.” She smiled at each of them kindly, seemingly having forgiven Frank for his attitude, before she left again to serve other customers.  
  
“So...” Frank said, cupping his coffee with both of his hands and enjoying the warmth spreading through his palms. It wasn’t exactly cold with it being only September and all, but the cafe was maybe a bit chilly. “You uh, you get along well with your brother?”  
  
Gerard copied Frank’s movement and nodded, his thumb running over the rim of the cup. “Oh yeah, he’s amazing. We don’t have that much in common though, well apart from our taste in music, movies, games and books and that stuff.”  
  
“That does sound like lots of common interests to me,” Frank commented.  
  
“Ha, I guess that’s true. But like… he’s more of a hard-working kind of guy, and he thinks drawing and painting are just hobbies. He works in an office and shit. And we’ve had… well. Had our difficulties in the past, but let’s not talk about that. It’s in the past.”  
  
Frank frowned. “But I mean, if you can pay your part of the rent-”  
  
“Yeah, that’s probably why he doesn’t like me doing that for a living that much,” Gerard chuckled. “He sometimes has to pay more because I just couldn’t sell enough paintings that month. Not this time, though, as I said, the last weeks have been great.”  
  
Frank smiled at that. Gerard looked so at peace with himself and his art, it was beautiful to watch. Whenever he talked about painting or drawing, his eyes got all dreamy and he started gesticulating wildly, trying to portray how moving his pieces were or whatever. Frank had never thought he’d ever think stuff like this, but he sort of adored Gerard for having found something that made him this happy. And he sort of wished it would be _him_ instead of art. Fuck that stupid brain of his.  
  
“Well, I’m glad,” he commented, meaning it.  
  
“So is my brother,” Gerard grinned. “You’ve met him actually. He’s the one I was at the club with when we met the second time.”  
  
Oh. _That_ was Gerard’s _brother_? Okay, Frank really didn’t know how to feel about that. Well, the thing he felt most prominently was probably relief because that guy was also the one he’d seen Gerard at the coffee shop with, and it seemed like it was not his boyfriend after all. But Frank also felt sort of stupid for not realizing the both of them were related; they had to look a bit alike for sure. Then again, Frank had been extremely careful to avoid looking at Gerard’s companion at all costs. He only knew Gerard’s brother was taller than him, had a narrower face and wore glasses.  
  
“Cool,” Frank said, trying to sound nonchalant about it. “I don’t have any siblings.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Uh. How?” _Fucking mind-reader confirmed._  
  
“Well, there are only pictures of you and your parents in your house,” Gerard explained. “So...”  
  
“Right,” Frank huffed with a grin. “I forgot you’ve already been at my place. Creep.”  
  
Gerard chuckled and raised his hands to show his innocence. “Hey, not my fault I’m such a genius artist.”  
  
“When are you gonna show me some of your sketches, genius artist?” Frank asked, sticking his tongue out.

* * *

  
Frank’s completely unbiased opinion on Gerard’s art was extremely positive. He had shown him basically his entire folder that, according to him, contained the works he was most proud of. There were some pretty old pieces too, some of them Gerard had made when he was even younger than Frank, so they had to be almost ancient. All of them were really good, though. Of course you could see the improvements Gerard had been making since his very first drawings, but there wasn’t a single one Frank had looked at that he hadn’t liked. Gerard drew super varied shit, too, so it never became boring looking at them. People, mostly musicians, comic book characters and superheroes, but also elements of nature, and animals. Some abstract things too that Frank couldn’t really describe. Gerard was fucking talented, though, that was for sure.  
  
When he lay in bed that night, he had a plan. A new one… kind of.  
  
Frank liked Gerard. Although he’d tried hard to tell himself and Gerard that he didn’t, the truth was he liked him a lot. He had a crush on him, a crush that had become even worse now after spending such a great day with him. Gerard was a self-loving, nerdy, goofy, one- or two-slap-deserving, adorable dork that Frank liked spending time with, and he didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. Probably not.  
  
Who would have thought going into that club two months ago would change his life like this?  
  
Frank had never liked a boy. Frank had never had a crush, especially not on a boy. Frank didn’t do crushes.  
  
_He_ _didn’t do crushes_. He was clear about that now. Which is why he’d come up with this new plan.  
  
The way he saw it, he had two options. Option One, just fucking get over it and never talk to Gerard again. Option Two, actively do something to get rid of his weird feelings.  
  
Option One was out of the question. The thing was, Frank liked Gerard, whether he wanted that or not. Just the thought of not calling him again for months made his stomach drop, so he definitely would not be able to go through with that and just embarrass himself if he tried to. Plus, the hopeful little smile Gerard had given him earlier when he’d asked Frank to meet up again soon was sort of stuck in Frank’s mind and made him feel all happy and excited. So yeah. Out of the question.  
  
So option two it was. It had to be option two. Because choosing neither of these options would mean Frank accepting the degradation of having a thing for Gerard, which was not happening. He’d hurt his pride enough the previous weeks.  
  
Now, Frank didn’t exactly know how to handle crushes, and it wasn’t like he could ask his parents or his fucking driver for advice, so he had to base his decision on things he was familiar with. In theory, all things sort of lose their value after a while. Like, toys for children. Or food. Or an album you absolutely love and listen to 24/7 until you slowly start skipping songs of it when you have your playlist on shuffle just because you’ve listened to them too much.  
  
This also had to work for people. Especially dorky, low-key annoying ones like Gerard. So if he just spent a lot time with him, he would grow tired of his stupid face and be able to move on faster? And be able to move on faster. No question mark. Because Frank was convinced this was going to work.  
  
There also was one addition to Option Two. Frank didn’t only want to spend time with Gerard until he’d start to hate his fucking adorable personality, he had some things in mind to accelerate that process. And not only that, those things would also help him feel better about himself, repair his self-esteem, forget about Gerard’s constant taunting, and make him finally lose this annoying thing he carried everywhere he went and he’d never admit to still having. His virginity.  
  
Frank wanted to fuck Gerard. In an utterly not love-related, selfish way. Just to finally be able to say he’d taken everything he wanted, everything Gerard had teased him with, and then find someone, a _girl_ , to distract himself from Gerard until his fucking stupid crush was finally over. For his reputation’s sake, for his own sake, and also for his parents’.  
  
For Gerard’s, not so much. Unless he was into getting exploited sexually.  
  
But he had brought that upon himself.


	5. Chapter 5

“Batman or Superman?”  
  
“Batman.”  
  
“Dumbledore or Gandalf?”  
  
“Dumbledore.”  
  
“Red or blue?”  
  
“Gerard...”  
  
“Not an option.”  
  
“Gerard, Christ. What even is this?”  
  
“Uh.” Gerard finally tilted his head to the right, away from the canvas he’d been hiding his face behind for no less than thirty-seven minutes, to look at Frank. There were colorful splashes all over his face and hair, making the smug _I thought that was obvious_ look seem more funny than irritating. “This is us hanging out. Me painting while you lie on my couch and we get to know each other, more specifically.”  
  
Frank raised an eyebrow at him, trying to look as skeptical as possible, but Gerard had already gone back to his painting, and didn’t spare his guest another glance. “Usually people get to know each other by _conversation_ ,” Frank supplied.  
  
“So are we.”  
  
“Well. No.”  
  
“Yes. I’m asking you questions, you’re giving me answers, sounds like a conversation to me. And we’re getting to know each other.”  
  
With a sigh, Frank got up from where he had been sitting for over half an hour just alternating between watching Gerard’s arms move on either side of the easel and letting his gaze wander through the living room. The apartment was small. Frank had been given a brief tour before they had settled in here, and it hadn’t taken more than a minute or two. It was basically only the living room, a kitchen that needed cleaning, a bathroom containing nothing but a shower, a sink, a toilet and a tiny cabinet, and two small bedrooms. Well, Gerard’s bedroom was small anyway, which was also why he had to keep all his drawing supplies in the living room, much to Mikey’s dismay. Frank could relate, the smell was slowly giving him a headache. Mikey’s room was, supposedly, a little bigger than Gerard’s, with him paying most of the rent and all. Gerard thought he deserved it.  
  
Today was the first time Gerard and Frank had decided to hang out here, in Gerard’s apartment. It had been cafes until now, mostly, restaurants, and other public places. Not because they didn’t trust each other – Frank had actually started trusting Gerard a lot with how much they had been hanging out recently. It just had never felt quite right to invite Frank over, according to Gerard, which Frank hadn’t really understood. He also didn’t understand why today was the right day, apparently. But whatever.  
  
Frank had wanted to meet up at Gerard’s place a long timeago, but simultaneously hadn’t wanted to press the matter. Well, his plan still was to have sex with Gerard, and he doubted he could seduce him while they were sipping on their coffees with a dozen people surrounding them. He hadn’t wanted to make his intentions too obvious though, fearing Gerard might see through him again. He couldn’t risk that.  
  
Spending time with Gerard was amazing. Against what he’d hoped for – that he’d get tired of his personality – Frank found himself falling in love with that man a little more every single day. Which sucked. Falling in love was more than just fancying someone, what Frank now felt towards Gerard was stronger, in a way. But the more he liked him, the stronger the urge got to just get rid of the feelings altogether, and therefore sleep with him. Because Frank was obviously a pro when it came to feelings, and sleeping with the person you found attractive definitely made you hate them.  
  
Today had seemed like the perfect opportunity to somehow get in Gerard’s pants. They were here, in his apartment, all alone, as Mikey was nowhere to be seen and apparently out with friends. But then Gerard had gone full artist mode or whatever, sitting at his easel in the corner of the room and only asking stupid questions ever since Frank had sat down on the sofa, confused and still somewhat expectant. It had made Frank lose hope anything would happen today, which made the semi boner he’d been sporting until a few minutes ago seem rather pathetic, which made _him_ seem pathetic. He had honestly expected to be worth Gerard’s full attention – he was here in his apartment, after all, and for the first time at that. Not that it was _boring_ to listen to Gerard’s rambling and answer his odd questions, but Frank had just hoped there would be _more_. That Gerard would enlarge upon that topic he’d started a couple of months ago when they’d been in that bathroom the second time, for example. The one involving letting Frank fuck him.  
  
“Maybe you should have gone with Mikey if you think this is a normal conversation,” Frank suggested as he strode through the room, trying to find something that would catch his attention. There were a few paintings on the wall he was sure were by Gerard, but he’d already studied them intently from where he’d been sitting before, and he wasn’t _that_ interested in art, so they were no longer relevant. Besides, they had to be pretty bad. Not that Frank could tell, but he doubted Gerard would keep his own paintings if he had been able to sell them. “You know, meet people. Be social. Bribe someone to tell you tricks on how to pretend you’re cool.”  
  
“Ugh, people. Not my best area.” Frank saw Gerard shrug behind the canvas, not a single hint of sarcasm in his voice. Well, there shouldn’t be. Having a sleeping pattern this fucked up, and creepily starting conversations in disgusting public bathrooms… Frank doubted he had much experience socializing. “You don’t think I’m cool?”  
  
“Well, you’re...” Special. Adorable. Talented. Dorky. But cool? “Different.” Frank settled for eventually, earning a confused huff from behind the canvas. “In a cool way. But you’re not exactly cool yourself.”  
  
“I can live with that,” Gerard decided after a moment. “Different. Different is interesting, right? Different caught your attention.”  
  
Frank blushed and quickly turned around, pretending to be looking at the bookshelf. “Uh huh,” he offered.  
  
“I guess it’s alright you don’t think I’m cool, because I don’t really think you’re cool either.”  
  
“Uh huh,” Frank repeated, feeling his stomach turn weirdly. Why were they talking about this again? He didn’t exactly want to hear Gerard’s arguments why he didn’t like him. He was aware of his own arrogance, and he knew he was kind of a dick most of the time, but it wasn’t like he could change that in only a few weeks. Frank was trying, though. For Gerard. Kind of.  
  
Weirdly enough, Gerard didn’t elaborate on his statement, but merely fell silent again as he continued to paint. Frank wandered through the room for a bit, questioning whether he should ask why Gerard didn’t think he was cool, and was glad he hadn’t done so when a few moments later Gerard started a new conversation about a completely different topic.  
  
He didn’t know why Gerard telling him he didn’t find him cool bothered him so much. It wasn’t like saying that meant that Gerard hated him – obviously that was not the case. Plus, they’d been fooling around, so maybe he hadn’t even been that serious, so Frank knew he was being ridiculous. Clearly he didn’t need Gerard to tell him he was cool, because he _was_ cool, anyway. He played the guitar and did underage drinking and all that stuff.  
  
Maybe this was just another thing that made Frank realize that _yes_ , Gerard’s opinion did matter to him, and _no_ , Gerard was not as pliant around him as everyone else, and _still_ , Frank had fallen for him so fucking hard. So hard that even a playful insult – which wasn’t even a fucking insult, Jesus – made Frank feel uneasy about himself.  
  
Maybe he wasn’t as mature and self-confident as he’d always assumed.  
  
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Gerard suddenly raised his voice, interrupting his constant murmur Frank hadn’t particularly paid attention to. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” Frank said quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. He really should keep this train of thoughts to himself if he didn’t want Gerard to think he actually was a kid.  
  
The elder let out a huff. “Hm, weird. There’s something different, though, like, a different energy in the room...” His hands moved around as if trying to grasp what it was that had shifted, and wow, he was pretty scary like this. Frank just stared at him skeptically, confused eyes following his movements. “Ah well, whatever. Maybe I’m just losing inspiration,” Gerard offered apologetically after a moment. “This must be super boring for you anyway, huh? Sorry. Let’s do something else.”  
  
Without waiting for Frank to reply, Gerard grabbed his supplies and carried them to the adjacent bathroom, supposedly to clean them. When he heard the faucet running, Frank strode across the room to look at the painting he’d only seen the back of so far. Suddenly he had the very strong urge to find out what had kept Gerard occupied the entire time, hoping to get a glance at a new masterpiece.  
  
The result was fairly disappointing, though. Not that the painting was bad, Frank doubted Gerard could create anything that wasn’t at least decent, but there wasn’t really anything on the canvas yet. Just a few brought stripes of color, mixed together, covering the surface in mainly whitish and bright blue hues, some pink and yellow here and there. It still was beautiful, even if Frank couldn’t quite tell what Gerard was going to make out of it.  
  
“Like it?”  
  
Frank flinched when suddenly Gerard’s voice reappeared from the threshold to the bathroom, a bashful grin on his face. Taking a step away from the canvas, Frank nodded mechanically, suddenly feeling like he had intruded on Gerard’s privacy. “Yeah,” he affirmed quickly. “It’s… It’s nice.”  
  
“It’s nowhere close to being finished,” Gerard told him with a chuckle, stepping further into the room. “But thank you. Someday it’s going to be a snowy landscape, some guy requested it. I don’t think I’ve ever really painted anything like that, but the idea seems nice… Don’t worry, it’s not gonna stay that blank. I’ll work out the details later.”  
  
“Oh. Well, yeah, that’s a nice idea for a painting. I… uh, sorry. For like, disrupting you or whatever.”  
  
Despite how clumsy the apology was, Gerard seemed a little taken aback by it. Hell, even Frank was taken aback by it, surprised by how naturally saying sorry had seemed a moment before. This was so unlike him. This _all_ was so unlike him – hanging out with friends in shitty apartments, complimenting people’s work, apologizing. Being insecure about himself. What the fuck was going on?  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Gerard offered friendly. “It’s fine. I like taking breaks and coming back to pieces after reflecting on them for a bit.”  
  
“That’s good then.”

And what the hell was Frank’s problem anyway? No witty remarks, no mentions of how he was the mayor’s son and therefore this important tiny bit better than most of the rest of this planet’s population. Nothing. Was Gerard really changing him that much?  
  
Realizing all this was really kind of scary. Frank wanted to have time to contemplate what this meant, just spend the rest of the day pondering over himself – something that was more typical for him. Surely Gerard would understand that Frank had to leave, he was important, after all. And Gerard was caring.  
  
“Wanna rent a movie?”  
  
Except spending the eveningwith Gerard on the couch, potentially having physical contact, and therefore potentially getting a little closer to his plan of fucking Gerard sounded really good. In fact, Frank liked just the thought of being able to subtly cuddle Gerard for two hours so much that he immediately disregarded of his previous idea, and nodded maybe a little too emphatically.  
  
“If we can get some booze?” he added, forcing himself to sound conversational. Because booze would help his case in possibly seducing Gerard… also, booze was always awesome.  
  
“You pay,” Gerard told him with a wink as he went to put on his denim jacket. And well, that Frank could do for sure.

* * *

Something else Frank was very good at, in addition to spending money, was getting ahead of himself. Which he could have changed, but really, the only thing he was even better at was denying it to himself.

  
There were moments like this, however, where his illusion-creating self-confidence collided with the real world, a world in which he, despite everything, was just a seventeen-year-old, and in which Gerard, legally, had way more power than him. Which was a fact Frank did not like nor accept.  
  
He kind of really hated the smug expression Gerard was giving him at the moment. Because despite knowing he was a minor, Frank had somehow gotten himself into a discussion trying to convince Gerard that he totally didn’t need him to get the alcohol, that he could do it himself, although he was technically too young. Well, normally that was true. Frank had a driver he could easily command to buy him whatever, and they had a fucking mini bar at home that he had access to. But in their discussion, Frank might have announced he could get booze _anywhere_ , so here they were in front of a petrol station near Gerard’s apartment he’d never been to before.  
  
And while Gerard was actually really smug and Frank pretended to be really smug, time went by incredibly fast as Frank tried to make a decision. It was like Gerard knew what was happening inside of him, why he was hesitating to go although the entire station was empty, and it just worsened the whole situation so damn much. Frank didn’t want to make an ass of himself, but by now it seemed inevitable – He could either cave and ask Gerard to go instead and seem like the pretentious shit he refused to accept he was, or he could just go in there and get embarrassed by the cashier, which would also lead to Gerard thinking of him as a child. Great. Well, _or_ he could somehow convince the woman to give him the booze, but at this point he seriously doubted it. His name had opened doors for him all his life, so there just had to be a limit somewhere, Frank could feel it.  
  
“Gee...” he whined after another good ten seconds of silence. This was getting ridiculous and Frank knew it. Gerard was probably waiting for him to give in though, he wanted Frank to depend on him, and just for the sake of being a cock, Frank was not willing to let him have that satisfaction.  
  
“Yes, Frankie?” Gerard asked as sweetly as possible, eyes twinkling. “What’s up?”  
  
Frank sighed and shook his head. Nope, this was not happening, he was not going to plead with Gerard to get the alcohol for them. “What stuff should I get for us?” he asked instead, hiding a smirk at how Gerard’s expression shifted as he was taken by surprise. “Jim Beam?”  
  
“Sounds good,” he shrugged. “But whatever it is you wanna get, you better get it now. That lady’s been eyeing us for a while now, she probably thinks we’re planning on robbing the place or whatever.”  
  
“Fine. And if I can do it, you owe me a favor,” Frank said, biting back some clever remark about how it was totally logical to stand in front of the shop for ten minutes before robbing it, not bothering with hiding one’s face from the security cameras whatsoever. Instead, he gave Gerard one last emphatically nonchalant look before he turned around and strode towards the entrance door.  
  
He aimed straight for the booze, knowing the cashier was watching his every step if Gerard had been right. Confidence was the key, he figured. Confidence, patience, and his ID featuring the name that would make the woman cave in case Frank’s mere appearance wasn’t enough. So he grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam after casually letting his gaze wander across the various liquors, before shuffling towards the counter with a bored expression. If he just acted like he wasn’t totally freaking out on the inside, maybe the woman would just not question him at all.  
  
“No.”  
  
The word felt like a slap to his face, making color rise to Frank’s cheeks. He had just placed the bottle on the counter and not even said a word yet, and the woman did not sound like she was even interested in hearing his arguments.  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“No. I’m not selling you that. What story were you gonna tell me? Forgot your ID? Your dog ate your ID? You were at some college party and lost your ID? I’ve heard it all before, kid, you wouldn’t believe how absurd some of you teens are. Do the both of us a favor and just go.”  
  
Furiously and equally ashamed, Frank got his wallet out of his back pocket. “Actually, my ID is right here, and you better look closely at it.” He held it right in front of the woman’s face, watching her study it for a moment. “I’m also taking a pack of Marlboros.”  
  
“It says you’re seventeen,” she dead-panned, seemingly unimpressed. “No cigarettes, no booze.”  
  
“That’s not what you were supposed to look at,” Frank explained impatiently, putting his ID on the counter and pointing at his name. “There. You can read that, right? And you have some general knowledge?”  
  
“So you’re related to the mayor?”  
  
“I’m his son. Changed your mind yet?” Frank raised his brows at her expectantly as he put his ID back.  
  
“Um.  _No_. You could be the fucking First Lady and I wouldn’t sell you alcohol if you’re underage.”  
  
This woman was starting to piss Frank off. “You do realize I could get your ass fired by making a phone call?” he seethed, pointing a threatening finger at her. God, why was she so fucking stubborn? Frank knew Gerard was watching them, probably laughing to himself at how angry Frank was getting over this argument… Well, shit.  
  
“For what?” the cashier huffed, smirking at Frank. “Gonna call Daddy and tell on the cashier respecting the law? Look, I can tell you’re used to people doing your bidding, but this doesn’t work on me. Try somewhere else if you want to get drunk so bad, but maybe send your friend, he looks a little older. What’s he, by the way? The Queen’s third cousin once removed?”  
  
“He’s... twenty-three,” Frank growled, eliciting a high-pitched laugh from the woman.  
  
“So what the fuck are you doing here? Proving you’re cool? Trying to win some bet? Jesus, let the adults do the adult stuff, would you?”  
  
Frank had had enough. With a grunt, he turned around and stormed towards the exit, barely resisting the urge to flip her off. How could she? Frank’s father would hear about this and get her unemployed, see if she still would laugh then…  
  
Gerard was grinning broadly when Frank came to a halt in front of him. He only looked at his face for a brief moment before looking away, for some reason unable to see him like this. Fuck this. Fuck this woman, fuck this idea, fuck his plans of fucking Gerard. Maybe all Frank needed was some sleep.  
  
“So? Where’s the Jim Beam?” he asked. Fucking asshole.  
  
“She didn’t sell it to me,” Frank stated with a sigh, hoping Gerard would stop teasing him about it and they just could get this over with already.

“Oh well,” Gerard hummed. “I thought so. She looks like a stubborn cunt, not like the _beam_ of sunlight that would have maybe helped you out.”  
  
Frank frowned at him. “Right… So. You’re going in or not?”  
  
“Come on, Frankie, let me enjoy this for a moment. I’m  _beaming_ with happiness.”  
  
“Oh, now you’re making shitty Jim Beam puns to remind me of all this?” Frank groaned, and by the way Gerard startled chuckling, he knew his assumption was right. “Ha ha, very funny. Now get your ass in there, would you?”  
  
“Let’s cherish this  _outbeaming_ situation just a little bit longer.” Gerard took a deep breath, smiling fondly at nothing in particular. Frank hated him so much. “What did I want to say? Oh, right. _I told you so_. I told you so all those months ago, I’ve been telling you so ever since. And ta-da, here I am, your friend, willing to help you out.”  
  
Frank rolled his eyes at him, hiding his hands in his pockets. “So your whole  _I’m the true friend you might need in the future_ shit was a metaphor for you buying me booze at a petrol station? Truly inspiring.”  
  
“Obviously not, silly. This is a very nice example of how you can’t just go anywhere and expect people to be at your feet, though. You have no idea how much I enjoyed watching that.”  
  
“Fine. And now what will it take for you to actually buy the Jim Beam? Said stubborn cunt is still looking at us.” Frank was growing tired of this. He hated people making fun of him, he wasn’t used to that, obviously, and now two people were amused by his behavior in just one day. Which was… frustrating.  
  
“Well, first of all, you could admit I was right. Hearing you say that would be marvelous,” Gerard suggested.  
  
“You were fucking right, okay? Now get the damn-”  
  
“And maybe you could ask me nicely instead of just ordering me around?” Gerard interrupted him, making Frank huff. “Because honestly, that’s all you ever do, and it would be outstanding to just hear you ask for something. Just this once.”  
  
Frank closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, forcing himself to stay calm. This was no reason to lose his cool. He had a plan with Gerard, a plan in all this, so even if he literally had to beg Gerard to do something, he still had the upper hand. Gerard just didn’t know. Which was good. “Oh, dearest Gerard,” he began, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Please have mercy on my poor, underage soul and get us the liquor we both crave. Pretty please with a cherry on top?”  
  
“I like you way better like that,” Gerard giggled. Then he nodded – fucking finally – and snatched Frank’s wallet from his hand. “You’re still paying though, right?”  
  
“Whatever,” Frank grunted. “Take what you need.”  
  
Gerard smiled at his impatience and got a bill from his wallet, putting it in his own. “Oh, hey-” he said, eyes wide and excited. “If this was a science fiction film, maybe I could beam myself in there!”  
  
“Stop!” Frank exclaimed, unable to hide a grin as he slapped Gerard’s shoulder. “These are horrible, fucking stop. If this was a science fiction film, I would’ve totally shot you with a ray gun by now.”  
  
“Oh, Frankie, don’t  _be m_ ad at me.”  
  
“ _Stop_.”  
  
“Okay, sorry. What can I do so you’ll  _be m_ y friend again?”  
  
“These don’t even have the word beam in it and it doesn’t count if you just combine two words to make it sound like they do,” Frank reasoned, shaking his head, earning a telling grin from Gerard. “You’re just gonna keep doing it, aren’t you?”  
  
“Maybe. If I can think of some more while I buy the stuff,” Gerard laughed before finally turning around, leaving Frank to stand by himself with a reluctant grin on his face and his eyes totally not on Gerard’s ass.  
  
What a fucking dork.


End file.
